


all the things I never invented

by torigates



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-19
Updated: 2012-02-19
Packaged: 2017-12-31 12:32:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1031743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torigates/pseuds/torigates
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wally completed his first science experiment when he was six years old.</p>
            </blockquote>





	all the things I never invented

 

 

  
this is a photograph of all the things

I never invented

over a lifetime

of never inventing anything

\- Denver Butson

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

Wally completed his first science experiment when he was six years old. His first grade teacher brought bean seeds to school and the entire class was given two to put inside a wet paper towel. Within days there was growth and a week later Wally had a tiny bean plant to take home. His mom helped him take care of it, and by the end of the summer the family was eating beans grown from his very own plant, and even though Wally normally didn’t like beans, from his plant they tasted great.

When he asked his mom how it worked, she said magic. She burst out laughing at the serious look on his face, as he stared at her, arms crossed over his tiny chest and waited for her to explain. “Okay, okay,” she said finally. “Let’s go to the library.”

Wally left the library with four different books on plant life cycles, two on plant cells, and another one on tigers (tigers are cool). The librarian gave him a funny look before she checked out his books, but his mom just put her hand on his shoulder and helped him carry them out to the car.

Plants were pretty cool. Wally liked them, and he especially liked reading about how they grow and how ecosystems work. From plants he moved on to animals, and insects, and fossils, and chemistry and physics.

It was, as they say, the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

It wasn’t until he actually got home for the night that his arm started really hurting. Wally understood why that was, his adrenaline and fight or flight instincts had taken over in the heat of the battle.

The battle was over now and the Justice League had rounded up all the villains, but by the time Wally got home and actually took off his Kid Flash costume it was too late to say anything. His arm was swollen and almost entirely blue, and he couldn’t move his fingers.

He trudged into his parents’ room, feeling like a little kid who broke the rules rather than a superhero who just saved the planet from total plant destruction. His mom took one look at his face, before sighing. “Oh Wally,” she said, and started putting on her coat.

The hospital lights were bright and Wally sat sandwiched between his parents while he waited for the doctors to give him x-rays. He could have gone back to Mount Justice, but his mom vetoed that idea when he started talking about going on his own, and she didn’t want to call Uncle Barry so late at night. “Besides,” she added helpfully, “He’s probably tired from dealing with that plant-thing.”

Wally’s life was weird.

His arm hurt like hell as they laid it out on the table for the x-rays, and the nurse didn’t say anything when he let out a pathetic little squeak of pain. They fit him for a cast and the doctors said he’d probably have to wear it for at least three months, but Wally figured he’d be healed in half that time, at least.

The next day Batman looked at his arm without saying anything, and everything got down to business as usual.

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

His teachers all said the same thing: Wally isn’t a bad kid. He’s simply unfocused. Undisciplined. Distracted. Bored.

 _Bored_.

And the thing was--the _thing was_ \--Wally loved school. He loved reading and discovering knew things and _learning_. Learning was _great_. The greatest even. It was just no one seemed to want to teach him the things he really wanted to know. They went on about things like curriculum, and lesson plans, and blah-diddy-a, Wally didn’t _care_ about those things.

Wally wanted to know what made an engine run, and how colours work, and what chemicals react together. He didn’t much care about geometry, or history, and all his teachers had a hard time even getting him to read a book. It’s not that he can’t do those things--he could. He just cared about other things more, is all.

His mom tried everything: books, games, after school activities, different programs, camps, bribes, everything. Wally felt kind of bad because he knew she wanted him to try harder in school, and he did want to try, he did, it was just hard because he started thinking about other things and he forgot to pay attention and then he got detention and it was a vicious cycle, really. The world was out to get him, or his teachers were at least, except whenever Wally tried to explain that his mom just crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head like she wasn’t taking any of his crap.

So Wally tried to stay focused but sometimes he would just think about things like how to make a car engine work, or what velocity it would take to send a bottle rocket into space, and that just seemed so much more interesting than whatever Shakespeare play he was supposed to be reading for class, and sometimes that meant he maybe forgot to do his homework, but how much did that really matter in the grand scheme of things when he was going to be a scientist when he grew up anyway?

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

The cast itched and Wally’s arm _ached_ all the time. The extra weight threw off his stride and he ran into three walls turning corners too quickly--a habit he thought he had finally managed to break. He felt as unsteady on his feet as he used to back when he first got his powers. Batman said it was about adapting to any situation. Uncle Barry told him to take it easy and focus on getting better.

Wally chose to do the later.

It wasn’t like he was taking advantage of the situation. His arm really _did_ hurt, and Captain Marvel offered to bring him all those snacks, and what was Wally supposed to do, say no and hurt the guy’s feelings? That would be mean. Mean and unnecessarily cruel. Wally didn’t want to be cruel.

And then Meg was worried about him, and it wasn’t like Wally was going to turn her away if she wanted to pay attention to him. He’d only been trying to get her to notice him since, um _forever_. He didn’t really get why Artemis was getting her panties in such a knot anyway, she wasn’t the one with the busted arm after all. She kept huffing and rolling her eyes, and Wally was the last person to say this to anyone, but he was actually starting to become genuinely worried her face would stick like that, and she had enough working against her face as it was.

“Ow,” he said rubbing his shoulder where she had punched him. “What? I was just saying.”

“Well you can shove it,” Artemis said.

Wally shrugged and stuffed a few more chips into his mouth. It was hard to run with the cast, but he was still burning the same amount of calories, and a growing speedster needs to eat is all he was saying, Artemis didn’t have to look like he actually physically repulsed her.

“Did you have to punch my arm?” he asked. “I don’t know if you noticed but it’s kind of fucking _broken_.”

She rolled her eyes again. “Sure,” she said. “Like you’re not just milking it for all it’s worth.”

He held his cast over his heart. “It hurts me that you would think such a thing, Artemis,” he said dramatically. His wrist ached inside the cast. He ignored it as she shoved him.

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

At six, Wally grew his own plant. At eight his class does a unit on weather phenomenon, what makes it rain, and snow, and thunder. When his mom came to pick him up at the end of the day, his teacher just shook her head and apologized. They made another trip to the library and that was how he learned about meteorology.

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

Wally wanted to be a superhero ever since he became aware of their existence. Once he figured out how to do that, it was a no brainer. Working with the Flash, working with the team, Wally loved it. More than food, more than science, more than anything.

It wasn’t until the mission with the Reds that he started to think about what being a superhero might actually mean--for the future. Wally was always happy to go along with the plan. To defer to the Flash’s experience, or Batman’s strategy, or Robin’s raw leadership abilities, or Kaldur’s voice of reason. It made sense to follow where they led because they knew more than Wally. They were better than him, at least when it really came down to it.

But Wally was the one who understood the destruction that Red Inferno was wrecking on the planet, he was the one who recognized what it meant and how to stop it, and he was the one who gave the orders and completed the mission.

After, Artemis found him. She was fresh out of the shower, her hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun. She smelled clean, and her skin shone. Wally still had ash and soot on his face, his eyes and skin felt tight with sweat and dirt.

He smiled at her, and she favoured him with a rare smile in return.

“You going to shower this century?” she asked after a second.

Wally shook his head, trying to wrap his head around everything that had happened in the last few hours. It had been his idea to go to Ivo, his thinking that saved them and the planet. He knew he’d have to wash off the evidence of the mission, but for now he was enjoying how that felt on him.

He nodded. “I’m considering it,” he said. “Though it sure is a bitch to shower with this thing.” He held up his arm for her inspection. The cast was grimy and covered with dirt. He’d definitely have to have it replaced again. His mom was not going to be pleased.

“That thing stinks,” she said, wrinkling her nose.

He pressed it up against his face and inhaled, and immediately turned away coughing. “It really does,” he acknowledged with a grin.

She shook her head and turned away. “See you later, Wall-Man,” she said over her shoulder.

Back at the hospital, his doctor tried to dispose of the mangled plaster. “No,” Wally called after her. She simply shrugged and place it in his lap. “Souvenir,” he whispered to himself.

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

At thirteen he blew up his house and nearly got himself killed. Once he came across Uncle Barry’s notes it was pretty easy to recreate the same conditions that turned his uncle into the Flash. At least, it was easy in theory.

Looking back, Wally can never be sure if he really expected it to work. He had certainly hoped, deep down in his very being, he had hoped it would work out. He _wanted_ it to work, but he isn’t sure he really believed that it would. That he could be more than what he was. That he could have the thing he wanted most.

It was still dark when he woke up in the hospital, and he was so thirsty and hungry for a moment he couldn’t remember how to breathe. Couldn’t remember where he was, or what happened to him, or even his own name. He couldn’t remember anything over the sound of his breath scratching in his lungs and the scraping pangs of hunger in his belly. He coughed and immediately his mom and dad were at his side, mom’s hand stroking his forehead, and dad’s hand clutching his fingers so tight Wally was sure he’d lose circulation.

“Thank god,” dad said, and Wally never wanted to hear his dad’s voice sound like that for the rest of his life.

“Wally,” his mom choked out, and blinked several times, trying to make sense of anything over the roaring in his stomach.

“I’m hungry,” he managed after a moment, and his mom made a strangled noise that sounded like it might have been a laugh at some point.

“We’ll get you some food,” dad said.

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

Wally could still feel the bite of cold in his joints, the flames of heat on his face. He tried not to think about it, because seriously what good would that do?

Wally tried to ignore all the things he saw, and felt, and did, and said during that training mission. Black Canary claimed he was in denial, and maybe that was true, but he could admit to himself at least what he felt, what he did after she--he didn’t like to think it.

It still happened.

Wally might like to ignore it, he might like not to think about it, but he would never wish that it hadn’t happened. He learned something about himself that day. For better or for worse, they all did.

When he opened his eyes, the heat of the explosion still on his face, the orange light still blinding him, his arm throbbed. The metal bench pressed into his back, and he flexed his fingers inside the cast. The plaster was clammy from his sweat, and he realised his arm never once hurt the entire time they were on the mission.

After, his fingers felt numb.

Artemis went home, M’gann was still crying, and when Wally ran, the cast on his arm threw off his balance all over again.

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

At thirteen he blew up his house and nearly got himself killed. It was the best and worst thing he ever did.


End file.
